


Thirst

by Shady_Knight



Category: Dracula (TV 2020)
Genre: F/M, UST, so much UST, you are Mina's sister, you are hot for the vamp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:00:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23495692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shady_Knight/pseuds/Shady_Knight
Summary: You are at the convent in Budapest when Count Dracula arrives. You think he's pretty hot.
Relationships: Dracula/Original Female Character(s), Dracula/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 93





	Thirst

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because Claes Bang licking that knife and moaning while completely naked really gets me going.  
> (You can also find this on my tumblr.)

When you had agreed to travel with your sister Mina to find her fiancee Jonathan, you hadn’t ever in your life thought that you’d find yourself in a convent in Budapest, standing behind an iron gate at Sister Agatha’s side and watching a wolf whimper as it fell to its side.

You were fearful, almost trembling when its flank tore apart and pale, bloodied hands emerged, followed by an equally pale _(and naked)_ body. As the man ( _beast_ ) wiped some slimy substance from his face and observed you, you were struck with the strangest mixture of dread and anticipation. “I don’t know about you girls”, he began, voice deep and alluringly accented as he stroked the wolf’s belly, “but I do _love_ a bit of fur.” Bloody filth was smeared all over the man’s skin, his chest absolutely covered, hair wet and dishevelled as he stood up, revealing the long panes of his nude limbs.

He stretched his arms wide, unashamed of his lack of clothing. “Suffer onto me.” The dark eyes beneath heavy brows spoke of sin, of forbidden wants and delirious hunger. Then he laughed as he stepped toward the iron gate, revealing his razor-sharp, inhuman teeth.

You couldn’t help but watch, spellbound, as Agatha taunted the beast of a man, calling the other Sisters, her eyes seemingly never straying below his face. The Count ( _Dracula_ , your mind whispered) struck his head through the gaps in the gate, watching you like he was the prisoner, not you.

You found it hard to do the same thing as Agatha, your own eyes betraying you and lingering on his naked torso and threatening to go even lower. Your cheeks burned when his ( _Dracula’s_ ) gaze swept over you and your insides burned even hotter when he grinned, again showing off his oh-so-sharp teeth. You tried not to flinch when he called out to the group, and preferred to hide in the corner, not meeting anyone gaze.

This _man_ … this _vampire_ , he ignited something buried deep underneath what you had been taught was good and proper. His careless show of power left you breathless and wanting to see _more_. Experience more of him. His _might_. Briefly, you wondered if this was part of his power, too. To make you _want_ it. Well, if it it was, it was certainly working. You were vaguely revolted by how easily you fell for his vampiric charm - he hadn’t even spoken a direct word to you and already you were more attracted to him than any man from back home who had asked for your hand.

There was just a certain _something_ about him, beyond even being a vampire. It surely hadn’t altered his face - and yet, you couldn’t help but find him beautiful in his dark exoticism. Like a fallen angel, Lucifer personified.

When Sister Agatha opened the gate and forbid him from entering, you felt like fainting. How could she be so calm? So utterly unaffected? “I could tear you apart.” You knew that his words weren’t specifically geared toward you, but it didn’t stop you from shivering. What was wrong with you? Why were you…not scared witless? Oh, you were nervous and afraid of dying but…you were also attracted to this…this _monstrosity_.

“A beast can follow rules. I don’t expect it to understand them.” When the vampire snarled, reaching out as if to strangle Agatha, you realised that you should better listen to the actual conversation than to contemplate why exactly you found yourself drawn to the Count Dracula. “I am more than a beast.”, he countered, tilting his head a bit.

Your eyes trailed over his strong neck, down his shoulders and over his broad hairy chest. Belatedly, you realised that you’d never seen a man’s naked chest before. “Do you want me to show you?”, he answered when Agatha questioned him. “Of course. I’m waiting.”, she told him and you marvelled again at her courage. Or was it stupidity? You couldn’t decide. Dracula beckoned her forward until she was almost touching him. For a strange moment, you felt almost jealous of her, of the attention he was giving her. Mentally, you wanted to slap yourself to snap out of your sudden obssession with this…creature.

“Look at them.”, he ordered softly. You could see that she was holding his gaze, not wavering. “Look at your sisters.” Agatha did not turn and look as she replied. “Armed and ready.” You could see that the stakes in the nuns’ hands were trembling.

“You’re not looking.”, he countered, barely even blinking, their noses only a fist-wide apart. “I don’t need to.”, she shot back. He raised a clawed finger. “One of them. That’s all I need. If just one of your pretty little army beckons me in, I will tear your world to pieces”, the Count talked as one talks about the weather, as if it were inconsequential, “and I will drink my fill.” You didn’t want to imagine the carnage that he could probably unleash.

“Why would they invite you in? What do you have to offer?” You felt shame pool in your belly. It seemed that Sister Agatha could really not feel his demonic allure like you did. It made you feel dirty and weak. “Eternal life.”, Dracula replied, so quietly that you wondered that you didn’t have to strain to hear him. But his voice just seemed to fill the space effortlessly. “Well, they have that already.”, the nun explained, then turned and began to dismiss him with a quick “Thanks” over her shoulder. You bit your lip, thinking that she was forgetting about you a bit with her answer. Maybe on purpose, maybe not. _You_ weren’t a nun.

“Starting tonight, because the first one to invite me in stays at my side.”, the Count bellowed for everyone to hear, “The others, I will tear apart, and, ladies”, he laughed, a sinister smile exposing his fangs, “I will take my time.”, a pause, “One should never rush a nun.” Blood rushed through your ears and you felt heady, a conflict you had never thought to know igniting in your veins. You couldn’t hear what he was saying as he continued, your head spinning. But he had only said that one would live. If you let him in, he would kill Mina and take Jonathan. (What had he called him? ‘His bride’? What a strange concept.) You couldn’t let that happen to your sister.

Then Agatha cut open her palm with a knife and Dracula rushed toward her as far as he could, feral bloodlust colouring his eyes as he bared his teeth, growling like an animal being denied its rightful meal. She flicked her dripping blood over the convent’s treshhold. “Oh, go on, help yourself. There’s a dog comes past here most days. We often give it scraps.” She did it again, watching as Dracula retreated into a corner, growling deep in his chest but trying to control himself.

“Go on. You’ve come so far.”, she ventured mockingly, “I’m sure you could do with a drink.” You breathed in sharply as the woman held out her palm, letting blood drip onto his face as he opened his mouth like a man dying of thirst, tongue darting out to catch the ruby red liquid before she snatched it away again. You wondered how Agatha could stand this - if it were you, you would never been able to stand it - the sheer eroticism of the scene.

“See I’m not certain I see the appeal of blood.”, she told him, sucking a drop of her own blood from her finger. He snarled as she gestured at him with her boody hand, letting droplets of the ruby liquid stain his skin. “Each to his own, I suppose.”

“Do you think provoking me is clever?”, he asked her, breathless, nearly moaning. From your distance it was hard to tell but you could swear that his eyes were now a deep crimson. “Yes, I do.”

You saw Dracula’s throat work as he swallowed heavily. The way his breath passed his lips sounded almost obscene - like he had been doing an altogether different streinous activity. One that, ironically, would also require the same state of undress. “I want to learn about you. I want to see the limit of your capability.” You admired Sister Agatha for her spirit. Truly, she was a very forward thinking, intelligent and confident woman. Not like you. “It’s the point of this experiment.”, you breathed in harshly, tightening your hand into a fist. She was almost treating this like it _wasn’t_ life-threatening for everyone involved. Like there wasn'ta liiteral _demon_ at your doorstep.

When she offered the bloody knife to him, your heart stopped before speeding up again. The sound of his quiet gasps, the sight of his tongue licking along the metal - it made your abdomen clench involuntarily.

Then Agatha threw the knife completely to Dracula and turned away from him, returning to her spot among the other nuns. “Here, boy.”, she added, as if talking to a pet. Dracula had crouched down to retrieve the blade and was treating it like he had been handed a delicacy.

“This is contemptible. You are without shame.”, the Mother Superior spoke, watching him kneel over the knife with disgust in her eyes. “Be careful what you say to me.”, Dracula threatened, a bit muffled while speaking around the blade in his mouth. His lips shined in the warm light of the fire and you found yourself moistening your own, aware of the saliva suddenly pooling beneath your tongue.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full.”, Sister Agatha chastined in true nun fashion. “She has earned the right to express her contempt, you know? We all have.” _Yes_ , you thought quietly, _contempt for myself. For being so weak._ She continued speaking about the nuns behind her, still conveniently ignoring your presence.

“That is why you can’t bear the sight of this”, she kneeled down, showing him her wooden cross, “it speaks of a holy virtue you do not possess. It is goodness incarnate.” The Count only chuckled, his mouth curving upward. “For a moment there, I thought you were clever. But no. No, that’s not why I fear the cross. Goodness has got nothing to do with it.” In that moment, his eyes met yours for a second and you froze, like a deer about to be shot. He noticed your reaction and let his eyes linger for a bit longer before looking at Sister Agatha again. You didn’t follow her next words, too confused by your raging emotions.

After Dracula revealed his ability to learn from tasting one’s blood, Agatha turned to leave with the rest of the sisters. They were stalled by his snarls for a moment but Agatha soldiered on, not granting him a verbal reaction as she led the others back inside after carefully closing the gate again. (That a vampire couldn’t enter didn’t mean that no one else could, and it was at night.)

You hesitated, watching the vampire lick any excess blood off of his fingers, his tongue moving languidly. If sin had a feeling, it’d be the emotions you felt while looking at him in that moment.

“And what do we have here?”, he suddenly asked, having finally noticed that you hadn’t left with the rest after breaking out of his blood-induced reverie. “A lost lamb?” His voice was deep and throaty and, adressing you, it sounded downright _heavenly_ in your ears. You blushed, stepping up to to the gate as if an invisible force compelled you.

“Did you make Jonathan one of your kind?”, you quickly asked, wanting to deflect from your helpless desire for the vampire. He stared at you strangely for a moment, as if trying to remember something. “Let me guess…you’re (Y/n), right? The sister of Jonathan’s little fiancee.” You didn’t question how he knew. It’d be pointless, and not really important, besides. Maybe he’d 'read’ it in Jonathan’s blood.

He gave you a proper once over, his eyes no longer red. “And what a _pretty_ thing you are. Downright _delectable_.” By now, your face must be completely aflame. You certainly felt the blood pounding up to the tips of your ears. It embarrassed you further because you knew that he had to know, too. A vampire like him was bound to have superior senses. Sister Agatha had said that breaking iron would be like breaking matchsticks to him. It terrified and fascinated you at the same time. With vague discomfort, you wondered just how well-developed his sense of smell was in comparison. _Could he?_ Surely not. You _hoped_ not. “But to answer your question, yes, I did.”

“Can it be reversed?”

“Not to my knowledge. Not that I’ve ever tried. When I don’t need a vampire anymore, I have _other ways_ of neutralizing them, you understand?” Absentmindedly, you nodded, your heart sinking. If Dracula didn’t know of a way, how were you, mere humans, supposed to come up with something? “But that question is not really the only reason you are here, isn’t it, little bunny?”

“Bunny?”, you echoed.

“Your heart beats as fast as a bunny’s. But not from fear, I gather.”, he purred, voice dipping lower. You again became _very_ aware of his nudity, even if he was still covered in that disgusting mess. He stepped as close to you as he could, your eyes level with his chest, making you have to crane your neck to look at his face. A strand of black hair had fallen onto his forehead and you had the strangest urge to sweep it back, to touch him, see if his skin was as cold as you imagined it was. _(You ignored the voice that said you just wanted to know if it’d feel as good as you thought it would.)_

“I could _hear_ your little heart beating away when I spoke to the woman”, he briefly closed his eyes, “ _Agatha_. The others were terrified - but not _you_.” He breathed in deeply, shoulders raising slightly, eyes drooping half-closed again. “You were _aroused_.”, the word dragged on filthily in his low, throaty tone. “You saw me and you _wanted_. Isn’t that right? It’s not shameful to admit it.” A grin spread across his face, his fangs flashing slightly. “You wouldn’t be the first. Even though”, he continued, tilting his head a bit, “it’s not often that I invoke _such_ a strong reaction in someone. Agatha, over there, certainly seemed all but immune to my _charms_.”

You swallowed harshly, shame simmering in your belly, along with need. “I’ll tell you what, if you invite me in, you can _have_ me. I’ll give you my _undivided attentions_. I’ll make you feel things you’ve never felt before. I can take you to _heights of pleasure_ nobody else can. And all you have to do is”, his voice was intoxicating, you almost felt drunk off of him. “ _invite me in._ ” You wanted to, so badly. You wanted to take him in, consume him, _be consumed by him_. Let each other be devoured by desire. Your blood sang for him. You wanted to give in to him. He knew that you were crumbling when you leaned closer, your head resting against the iron bars. He leaned down and for a wild moment you wondered if he’d kiss you, but he aimed to the side, his broad tongue licking a hot trail upwards, over your right cheek, tasting your skin. He paused when he reached your ear. “Just say the words.”, he whispered seductively. “I will do the rest.”

You whimpered, goosebumps raising on your skin. “This isn’t fair.”, you murmured, desperation making your voice small. “Why are you so beautiful? Shouldn’t a monster like you be revolting?”

You couldn’t see it, but you heard Dracula inhale quickly and let out a sound that seemed like a groan. “You think I’m beautiful?”, he questioned hoarsely. “My, my, what a suprise you turn out to be.”

“W-what do you mean? Isn’t that normal? Thinking that you look”, you cringed slightly, not knowing how to phrase your unrational desire, “ _pleasing_?” He withdrew from you and drew back to his full height, shaking his head as he did so. “While my, ah, _vampiric_ charm draws most people in, they still tend to find me…well you said it yourself, unexplainably revolting. It’s their base instincts telling them that I am their _predator_.” His eyes held yours, appearing deep and unreadable. “Which you seem to lack. Tell me, is there no part of you that is repulsed by me?”

“N-no.”, you admitted truthfully, heat gathering in your face anew. “Quite the opposite. I don’t… I don’t understand myself. I… I feel-… you compel me like I am a moth and you a flame.” Dracula’s lips morphed into a toothy smile, his dark eyes glittering. “Very curious. I do believe that I will _enjoy_ any time I spend with you, my dear.”

The black-haired vampire winked at you, smirking infuriatingly attractively and turned on his heel, quickly striding away, into the darkness. Your eyes trailed over his broad back, lingering on his perfectly formed ass as he disappeared from your view. You wanted to curse and rage. Why were you so bewitched?

~~~

After your meeting with the Count you went straight to bed, not caring about anything else. You didn’t want to think about him - you just wanted to rest after an exhausting day. Mina would wake you up if something happened.

Waking to screams and growls echoing through the hall, you immediately sat up on your bed, a shiver running down your spine. A strange chill settled in your bones as you didn’t dare move an inch from your bed, clutching the white sheets to your body and listening to the horrifying sounds until they finally died down. You didn’t want to think about what it meant.

You strained your ears for _something_ , _anything_ else and almost jumped from fright when heavy footsteps resounded through the halls, growing ever louder. They were undoubtedly heading in your direction and, additionally, coming from the sort of shoes that you knew no Sister wore.

The footsteps stopped in front of door. You didn’t dare breathe, shoulders shaking from tension and when you heard the first creak of the hinges of the door, you closed your eyes, not wanting to look evil in the eye, so to speak.

“ _Darling_ ”, he said and his voice was close like he was standing directly above you, “don’t you want to see me?” Cool hands trailed over your shoulders and down your arms, making you flinch slightly, his fingers dancing over your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. Your breath hitched and you held yourself as still as you could. “After all, I stayed _just for you_. I could already be on a ship to England, but here I am, paying you a visit.” His hands grasped your own, encasing them in the inescapeable cage of his grip. You felt his breath skim your cheek when he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “You didn’t think I would let you go, did you?” A stifled shriek flew from your lips when his teeth nibbed at your earlobe. “We’re going to have so much fun, you and I.”

Not being able to stand it any longer, you opened your eyes and were faced with a wall of broad chest, clothed in expensive looking clothes. Where he had gotten them from, you didn’t know, but they fit the Count perfectly. He was mostly clean now, his black hair artfully swept away from his forehead, not a hair out of place. Despite that, you could see several small specks of blood splattered on his skin and the front, where his dark cloak opened to reveal a pristine white shirt and black vest combo.

It was then that you noticed him watching you study him and when you met his eyes, a dark grin bloomed on his face. “Yes, yes, I know. I clean up nicely, don’t I?” He flashed you his teeth, and one of his hands curled around your right wrist tightly, the sharp nails digging into your flesh painfully, but not breaking skin. “Now up you get, my sleeping beauty.”, he told you breezily and when you were too stunned to comply immediately, he yanked you up and onto your feet effortlessly. You stared up at him, mouth agape and heart racing. “Do you want me to take my clothes off again? You seemed to be much more talkative when I was naked.”

“N-no, I…” you spluttered, trying unsuccessfully to free yourself from his grasp. “Now it almost seems as if the roles are reversed.”, the Count continued teasingly and you drew your eyebrows together, confused. Freeing a hand, he gestured at your body and you followed the motion, suddenly realising that you only wore a thin white shift to cover your modesty. But it was quite too late to cover yourself. There was nothing that he could see that he would not have seen by now. Instead, you restricted your reaction to a quiet “Ohh.”

“(Y/n). I know I said that I’d tear everyone in here apart but” he leaned closer to you, conspiratorially whispering against your temple, “I find that I do not want to do that to you.” He stroked his index finger over the inside of your wrist almost tenderly and sought out your eyes, holding them with his. “Instead I have a proposition. An offer that, I’m sure, you will not want to refuse, my dear.” You scarcely blinked and had to remind yourself to breathe as you felt lost in the depths of his eyes. Close like this, they looked like they belonged to just a normal human.

“Become my bride, (Y/n).” Your eyes widened. “Wasn’t that…wasn’t that what you called Jonathan?”, you managed to ask. “Yes, well, the position has been left open by, let’s say, _tragic events_. Johnny won’t be doing much anytime soon.”, he inclined his head, letting a little snort-like laugh escape his throat, “Or ever.” You nodded slowly, closing your eyes for a moment. In a way, it felt cathartic. You knew that Jonathan would have never wanted this kind of _undead life_ for himself, where he’d be a danger for your sister. He had truly loved her.

“My sister”, you breathed, “is she…”, you couldn’t finish the sentence. The Count shook his head, his thumb catching you by your chin and tilting your head up. “She will live a long life, provided that she stays silent and doesn’t come looking for anyone.”

“But why?”, you asked. “I exchanged her for Sister Agatha. That woman threatened to kill herself if I did not let her ward go.” Your heart thuddered as you were filled with that strange jealousy again. “If you have her, why do you need me?”, you questioned, trying to avoid his eyes. The grip on your chin tightened until it pinched. “Look at me, my dear.” You obeyed. “Agatha won’t become my bride. Much too feisty, that one.”, his eyes twinkled mischievously. “Then why…”

“I will pick her apart and drink my fill off of her until her body cannot endure it any longer - and when she begs for it, I will kill her. But not too soon, I plan to make her _last_.”, Dracula place a feather-light kiss against your jawline, just above the pulse-point in your throat. “You…you I plan to keep. I do so hope you’ll become my most successful try.” You blinked slowly, panting under the touch of his wicked lips.

“ _Give yourself to me_.” With a moan, you grapped at his lapels. He let you, pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t to push him away but to pull him closer.

“ _Yes. Yesyesyes._ ”, you chanted mindlessly against his chest, burying your face into the dark cloak that smelt faintly of blood, but mostly of a divine scent that could only be the Count’s. It felt so good to let go, and it wasn’t as if you had any better alternative. Denying yourself and, most likely, dying as a result wasn’t worth it. Or at least that was what you told yourself as he stroked over your hair and settled a possessive hand on your back. “Come on, my dear.”, he told you airily, “We have a long journey ahead of us.” You followed him willingly.


End file.
